In another Vatican codex, number 1989, from approximately the eleventh century, formerly of Grottaferrata, I found a previously unpublished Greek panegyric on Saint Bartholomew, delivered by an anonymous monk, a contemporary and intimate of the holy man, as is apparent from the seventh and subsequent chapters, and indeed, [it was delivered] in the presence of the abbot who was Bartholomew's primary disciple. Wherefore, I believe that Sciommarus, in the aforementioned work, is speaking of an entirely different panegyric, the author of which he claims to be Pancratius, abbot of Grottaferrata, who lived around the middle of the thirteenth century, that is, almost two hundred years after Bartholomew; and indeed, [he claims] that the entire life of the holy man was recounted in it in order; a fact which is not recognized in our own [manuscript]. Finally, in the same codex 1989, folio 194b, I also read the history of Saint Phantinus with his twenty miracles; this holy man is often mentioned as a contemporary in the Life of Nilus the Younger. The author is Peter, bishop of the Western [region]. However, when I discovered that this Life had been published in Latin among the Sicilian Saints by Octavius Cajetanus, Vol. I, p. 552, I voluntarily set aside the study I had prepared. Indeed, Cajetanus most correctly observes in his annotations (p. 137) that there were two Phantinuses: one a Syracusan, far more ancient; the other a younger Calabrian (who was a contemporary of Saints Nilus and Bartholomew). It is clearly the history of the latter, not the former ancient one, that Peter, the Western bishop—that is, of the city of Tauriana in Calabria—wrote, as the same Cajetanus probably affirms. The title and beginning of the work is: "Peter, bishop of the Western [region], on the life and miracles of the holy and glorious servant of God, Phantinus. It is good to conceal the mystery of a king, but glorious to proclaim the works of God. This celebrated servant of God, Phantinus, was a servant to a man living in the world, Balsamius by name; but because of his natural sagacity, or rather, because of the shining of divine light bestowed upon him by the foreknowing power of God, he had arrived at piety and extreme love of God..." But let us proceed to the biography of our own Bartholomew, who is distinct from the other Bartholomew, the founder of the monastery of the Holy Savior at Messina, whose history the same Cajetanus recounts (op. cit. Vol. II, p. 136).
LIFE AND CONVERSATION OF OUR HOLY FATHER BARTHOLOMEW THE YOUNGER OF GROTTAFERRATA
A 1. Nothing is so well suited to provoke imitation as the memory of the Fathers, when it is recounted purely, studied with diligence, and handed down to the ears of worthy sons. For by inserting a kind of goad of zeal into the souls of those who hear, it inflames them with love, stirs them to imitation, and invites them to an equal contest; especially if it concerns those who have shone like beacons in our own generation, and who, by the splendor of their virtuous deeds, call us to tread the same path. For this reason, to transmit these things in writing and to honor them with these yearly processions and panegyrics is not, by heaven, an indifferent work or effort, but one that is most just. For if men begotten of the corruption of the flesh, whenever they hear some noble deed of their ancestors, are exhilarated by that account and do not easily allow themselves to be moved from their place, but with their whole mind intent upon the words, [meditate on] their fortitude—
and strive to imitate their victories; how much more should those who are spiritually reborn, and who receive daily growth of stature according to God, and who hope to attain to the measure of the stature of Christ, with pleasure hear and more studiously investigate their manner of life, and their accurate way of living, and their noble deeds, so that, carrying the undying memory of these things in their hearts and following in their footsteps, they may attain to the same crowns and rewards as they?
β′. Wherefore, one may justly ask: if those men wrote down the noble deeds of their own heroes with great diligence and expended such care that nothing done by them was concealed, even though they contributed nothing of real good to human life, shall we allow the deeds of our own heroes—which are so brilliant, so precious, so great and admirable, and which possess both utility and brilliance—to be overwhelmed by the gulfs of oblivion and covered over by the passing of time? For if, in truth, those who have hastened to have their own names written in the book of life have no need of praise from us, we, however, certainly have need of many such examples, weighed down as we are in this world by the flesh and incessantly warred upon by bodiless enemies. B For they, preferring the things of heaven to things at hand, and desiring to become heirs of the city above and to stand before the royal throne of God and to be illuminated by the unapproachable light, utterly disregarded things perishable and fleeting, and took no care at all for the flesh. Therefore, they were revealed as praiseworthy, admirable, and venerable to men, and beloved of God, and they duly attained to the lot and glory of the angels.
γ′. One of whom is our divinely eloquent Father Bartholomew, and he is the more admirable in that he shone forth so greatly in virtue—not among his own people, nor among those of the same tongue, but among those of a different tongue and in a foreign land (for this is no small part of the praise [due to him])—that in him all the Dominical precepts were fulfilled. C For the light within him shone not only in Italy, but in every neighboring region and city; and he became a lamp, not put under a bushel, but placed upon the lampstand, the lamp-light illuminating the world; a city not hidden and obscured, but built upon a mountain, and radiating with the splendor of his virtues. He became salt, not cast out, but eagerly sought and sweetly consumed, driving every bitterness and despondency from the soul. Therefore, he became beloved, admirable, and famous, not only to those in the surrounding region, but to all magistrates, princes, and kings themselves. And he was very dear to the one then presiding over the Roman Church, that is, to the pontiff holding the helm of the apostolic see, who hung upon his words and willingly heard and carried out everything commanded by him. D
A Verily these things shall be told in their own time. Now let our discourse proceed to those matters which are more pressing.
4. He was therefore born in the region of the Calabrians; and having been allotted pious parents, from his tenderest nails B he is given to a monastery. Having taken virtue as his companion in life, in his boyhood vigor he displayed a senile state of mind. For he was not occupied with games, and diversions, and laughter, and races, or leaping, in which youth is generally wont to take delight, but was given over to prayer and readings and the exercise of piety, and to the study of virtue in the highest degree. Among all his good works, fasting stood out, which he took care to observe even until his last breath. Moreover, at that time, being still a very young boy, he was sent by those in charge of the monastery to the neighboring village, as a servant boy, for the needs of the monastery. There, when he often found people dining, and was invited to dine with them, he would not consent, declining the invitation with a credible excuse: "For I have already eaten my fill," he would say, "in the monastery." In this way he would rebuff them, and return to the monastery fasting; and there, again being called to dine by the monks, and doing the same, he kept the good of fasting unimpaired.
5. When he had thus been excellently instructed in such a monastery, the fame of the most blessed Nilus, running everywhere like a messenger of God, was calling C all those who were studious of virtue to himself. I mean Nilus the younger, originating from Calabria, who for the love of solitude had abandoned his homeland, and having changed various dwellings, had arrived in Italy. For fleeing the glory of men as an obstacle to virtue, he was yielding himself to more deserted places. But because, according to the Lord’s oracle, a city seated upon a mountain cannot be hidden, neither did he escape notice; but the report of his virtues, sounding more sharply than a trumpet, was making the man manifest. Therefore, when a monastery was also established in the parts of Campania, about sixty monks flowed to him, among whom was also this God-beloved youth, Bartholomew, whose history we are writing. Therefore, the monastic life began again, and the repetition of former labors and sweats, and again the youth beloved by God hastened to reach toward [the goal of] his former exercises. So much so that once, when there was a reading and everyone fell asleep, he alone remained vigilant with the Father, asking about the difficult passages of Scripture, and requesting that they be explained to him by that great man; which the Father admiring, rebuked the slothfulness of the others, D who allowed themselves to be so greatly overcome by sleep, and neither wished to keep vigil with the youth, nor to emulate his strenuousness and alacrity for the good.
6. What then followed? It was necessary for the great Father
Nilus, having been released from his long labors, to receive the fruits A thereof and, migrating to the better life, to enjoy incorruptible eternity. And this also came to pass, for he ended his life in a good old age and departed to the Lord whom he had loved. Therefore, after him, of those who succeeded to the leadership of the brethren, the third to take up the authority and headship was the admirable Bartholomew—not indeed that he sought the office, but rather that he was sought out for the office, and much more compelled by the religious community, although he was still of immature age. Devoting himself to this duty, he nevertheless gave a specimen of his humility and modesty, for he did not wish to undertake the governance of that assembly alone, but requested that another, possessing B prudence and sagacity, should be given to him as a partner in the prefectship: although envy did not suffer this to continue for long in that degree.
7. Now that the light had been set upon the lampstand and had been prepared to shine well, what need is there even to say how very desirable he was to those being shepherded by him, how accessible to strangers, how admirable to those at a distance, how dear to those near him, sweet in speech, wise in knowledge, and most intensely devoted to the composition of chants? For his all-wise melodies are witnesses, which he published concerning the most holy Mother of the Word of God herself, and concerning the rest of the saints, filled in every way with wisdom and harmony; and what is even more wonderful, while he was free for such concerns, he was also occupied with the labors of his hands and cared for them. C Thus, while he was governing the matters of the headship wisely and spiritually, and as the affairs of the monastery were progressing for the better, the number of monks was increased; and the grace of God so aided him and favored his counsels that, in a foreign land, he erected a temple dedicated to the name of the Mother of God, both most large and most beautiful (I speak of this which is seen by all foreigners and natives, and in which we have taken up the performance of the divine psalmody), and he adorned it with pictures, and furnished it with sacred vessels and with beautiful and precious vestments.
8. But the miracle which occurred during the building is not untimely to commit to writing; for such as the blessed man himself was, such indeed were the subjects he employed. This most holy man wished for this temple to be supported by columns. D As one of these was in a high place, they to whom the care of its transfer had been entrusted, having hauled it into a steep and precipitous site, allowed it to go down headlong by its own power without the work of hands; and while it was rushing down with great force, a certain monk of the convent, being unaware of the descent of the stone, was standing in the very path of the stone, looking at and doing something else, and was entirely ignorant of the matter which was being transacted. And when those who had set the stone moving saw it coming down straight, and the monk...
standing with his face turned away, and that meanwhile the course of the stone was not swerving to either side, they warned the monk with shouts to avoid the impact of the stone. Then he, turning around calmly and looking at the falling column, said, "Stop!" And immediately the inanimate stone, as if hampered by the monk's command, checked its course and movement. And this miracle was of such a kind, and so very wonderful.
9. But another event of no less importance also happened. B Near the temple there was a wall built of mud and stones; under whose shadow this blessed monk had placed his bed and was granting his body a brief rest. But this wall, whether by the malice of the ancient enemy, the devil, or by chance, as is usually the case, was about to become treacherous to the monk sleeping right by it. For one night it suddenly appeared cast down upon the ground. But O the loving protection of God, and the most ready aid towards His servants! For, behold, it was possible to see the wall prostrate in the place where the bed of the monk had been, while the monk himself was sleeping on his cot, and, entirely ignorant of the event that was about to happen, he was kept safe in another place. Hereafter we shall narrate the rest.
10. But now we must return to where we left off, and resuming the history C regarding our divine Father, we shall clearly demonstrate how his virtue made him venerable to all, as we hinted above. He who at that time presided over the apostolic throne, being young in age, as he should not have been, and overcome by pleasures, had fallen into a human error. But finally, late in time, after he had abandoned his passion, and was seeking absolution for the deed that had been done, he wished to have our Father as a mediator and reconciler. Wherefore, having called the man to him, he revealed his vice with all the shame and confidence one could express, and begged for a suitable remedy. But the other was not struck with awe by the height of the throne, nor did he look toward the excellence of the dignity, nor did he set his mind on gifts and honors, as most of those who are physicians of souls do; D but applying the appropriate amputation to the painfully incurable wound, he said: "It is not permitted for you to perform priestly functions; rather, it behooves you to find leisure and to appease God, whom you have provoked by your sin." And he, with no delay interposed, immediately abandoning the throne, put on the persona of a private citizen. And thus did the pontiff conduct himself.
A 11. That he was beloved by the princes, our narrative will demonstrate. The prince of Salerno, having attacked the lord of Gaeta tyrannically, took him prisoner in war and carried him off in chains to Salerno. Therefore, the relatives of the lord of Gaeta, having—as the saying goes—left no stone unturned to rescue him from chains and from those most tyrannical hands, accomplished nothing; all things turned out vain for them, and no hope of aid shone forth. Despairing therefore of all else, they fled for refuge to our most serene harbor, namely, our Father. Having first taken counsel with the lords of the city of Tusculum regarding this matter, they summoned the holy man thither, saying everything and doing everything that could bend a soul. They wept pitifully, they cried out fervently, they kissed his hands, they threw themselves at his feet, praying that he might not ward them off or refuse them, since there was no hope of redemption for the wretched man from any other source. He who could not bear to see a soul dwelling in sorrow was bent by their entreaties. He undertook the labor of the journey; he departed, ready to lay down his soul for his friend, according to the word of the Lord. What followed from this? And what did God, who is accustomed to glorify those who glorify Him more highly, perform in this matter as well? Immediately as the prince of Salerno learned that the holy man was approaching, he went out to meet him with many armed men; for he was already foreknowing of the saint, and his virtue had been sufficiently tested by him. B He therefore received him kindly and embraced him affectionately. Yet here a most delightful cause for a story arises for me; for although our account may become somewhat digressive, nonetheless it will appear none the less marvelous.
12. A certain monk, living near the city of Salerno, having heard the great fame of the holy man among all people, both concerning his ascetic profession and his excellent manner of life, and his unadorned and humble way of living; seeing him now thus attended, and surrounded by princes as if by a bodyguard, suffered something human, suspecting a false report about him. For he reasoned that a man living in such glory and retinue could never be believed to be a worker of the virtues of which I have heard. The monk, pondering these things in his mind, when evening came, gave himself over to sleep. And behold, a dream of this sort was presented to him: He seemed to see a woman shining with extraordinary beauty, clad in a robe of purple, standing before him and rebuking those thoughts of his, saying: "Why did you not come reverently to greet my hermit?" He, terrified by the vision, and—from her garment and the grace streaming from it—perceiving her to be the holy Mother of God, answered her with great fear and trembling: "And who, O Lady, is your hermit?" C And she said to him: "It is he who has just now come to this city, the monk Bartholomew; for I have and call this man my hermit." The monk, hearing these things, and having awakened, and considering the vision, ran quickly to the holy man, and revealed to him those thoughts of his, and also related the vision, and
having asked for and received forgiveness, he returned home rejoicing. And the monk, having been fully persuaded by the apparition of the holy Theotokos, recovered his former opinion and faith regarding the holy man. And the lord of Gaeta, not only was he released from his bonds and custody, but he also received from the prince authority over another territory through the intercessions of the holy man. And thus with joy he returned to his own, praising God and giving many thanks to His saint.
13. Let John the scholastic B also be added here for the confirmation of the things said, and to show the love of the holy apostles toward our saint. Setting out from the island of Sicily, because he had heard by report of the virtues, natural gifts, and eloquence of the holy man, he also desired to behold him and to enjoy his converse and prayers. Having therefore carried his intention into effect, he started on his journey, and within a few days reached the monastery, and having attained the presence of the man he desired, and recognizing that what he had expected was even beyond rumor, he also wished to go to Rome and to pay reverence to the princes of the apostles, Peter and Paul; which he indeed did. Having therefore worshiped, and having spent not a few days in Rome, and not having obtained any providence or visitation from the just man (perhaps because of a more divine dispensation, so that the love which the holy apostles had toward our just man might be made manifest, while he was still living in this world), the scholastic, I say, accused the holy man C of inhumanity, and therefore, without saluting him and without having sought his prayers, he decided to return home immediately. Wherefore he boarded a ship and was making his journey. But though he indeed had so decided and was acting accordingly, the providence of God had different designs. For as soon as the ship began to advance on the sea, a contrary wind arose and drove it to other places, and then to others. And as he was being miserably tossed about on the sea for many days, straits and anxiety took hold of him; for he did not expect anything other than death in the waters. While, therefore, they were sailing uncertainly and beset by a storm, another ship appeared in the vicinity, and the scholastic, having questioned them and discovered that they were Amalfitans and were sailing to Rome, asked them to take him on board as well; which being granted, and with them sailing prosperously and entering the port of Rome, John the scholastic, having disembarked from the ship into a certain place on the shore, was enjoying solitude and quiet, yet he was seething with cares and mourning, and was in doubt as to what he should do.
14. So, as he was grieving and suffering in his soul, D two men appeared moving along the surface of the sea towards him, who seemed like the holy princes of the apostles, Peter and Paul. And coming quite close, they said, "Hail, friend; whence do you come? And whither are you going? And why do you lie here solitary?" He
A however, with fear related what had been done and what was about to happen. Those who had appeared, reproving him for his lack of counsel, said: "You have not used good judgment; why, when you were departing, did you not seek the intercession of Father Bartholomew as your viaticum? For thus you would have returned to your homeland quickly and with joy." Trembling at the majesty of those men, he asked, "But who are you, rulers?" B Straightway, one of them, extending his right hand, pointed toward the temple of the holy apostle Paul, saying, "That house is mine." And the other, pointing his finger toward Rome, indicated the temple of the holy apostle Peter, saying, "That great edifice belongs to me." Having spoken thus, they vanished from his eyes. When, therefore, he recognized from their appearance and their words that they were the chiefs of the apostles, and turning their words over in his mind and understanding what they implied, he went back to Rome and revealed everything to the holy man in a letter written by his own hand; he sought forgiveness for his misplaced thought, and begged that his return to his homeland be blessed by his prayers; having obtained these, he was brought back to his homeland on a joyful and prosperous journey.
15. C The fame of the holy man having spread everywhere, and an immense multitude assembling daily—with some being nourished by the word of divine grace, and others having their bodily necessities amply provided for, and both being strengthened in both respects—it was fitting that he himself, being human, should also be tested. For upon a famine occurring, and all the inhabitants and foreigners alike flocking to the monastery as to a port, while those belonging to the monastery were suffering the utmost want (for there occurs, even for the righteous, a time of abandonment, by the judgments of Him who sees all things)—the blessed man, seeing the multitude of the people and the monastery lacking in bodily provisions (for the granaries had run dry due to the multitude of those approaching, and vendors together with produce were missing, and friends refused to help), and not able, as a man of God, to see souls afflicted and prostrated by the calamity of the famine, resolved to flee; which he did, setting out on the road to Rome with two other monks. But who, O Christ, would not be amazed at your miracles, and at the wise solution and provision D made for the needy amid their straits, with an increase of blessing? While the blessed man was journeying, it is said that he was overcome by drowsiness, and he said to those with him, "Step aside from the road a little and prepare a place for me to sleep." This being done, as the blessed man slept on the ground, a divine dream came to him; and the dream had this appearance: He seemed to see a certain priest, as it were, clothed in sacred vestments, standing by him, reproaching him for his flight, and urging him to return to the monastery, trusting in the ineffable mercies of God, and not to provoke by his small-heartedness Him who opens His hand and fills every living creature with His favor.
A This Gregory, known as the Dialogos, was the one who placed in the blessed man's hands a box that emitted a strange and fragrant odor. Having awakened from his sleep not without astonishment, the man acted upon what had been commanded without hesitation and returned to the monastery, filled with good hopes. Upon returning, he saw someone coming to the monastery from the city of Tusculum; looking at him, he quietly turned to those who were with him and said, "This man comes bringing evangel." And indeed, he was truly bringing evangel, B reporting that one hundred bushels of wheat had been gifted to the blessed man by the lord of the city. From that time on, having an open hand, he was a bountiful giver, trusting in God and in his hierarch, that pontiff who had emboldened him through the vision. These things suffice as proof of both the love God had for the holy man, and the glory with which he was adorned by Him, and also the intimacy that the saints had with him.
16. The narrative now wishes to make mention of miracles C which God accomplished through him, not only while the blessed man was still living, but also at the time of his passing to God, and after his passing—miracles that are at once stupendous and entirely credible. We admire Elijah the Tishbite, who was granted the authority to shut and open the heavens, and we admire Gideon, to whom it was permitted to conduct an experiment with the fleece and the threshing floor. Yet with the former, this was done because of the people's lack of faith and hardness of heart; with the latter, it was because of the limited size of the army, or perhaps through some more divine dispensation. Nor is that which occurred under the holy Father D removed from the likeness of these, as our discourse will demonstrate. It was the height of summer, and the threshing floor was full of grain—not grain still standing and in the hope of future harvest, but already reaped and ready for the winnowing of the wheat. As, however, often happens, there were sudden gatherings of clouds, squalls, thunder, and darkness obscuring the air. The sky grew black, and rain was not only imminent, but was already seen to be falling in the surrounding areas. Despair and heavy grief seized the workers, so that blasphemies began to break out, along with the other things that attend upon sorrow. The man of God himself was present, comforting the workers and infusing energy into the work. First of all, with admonitory words, he restrained them from such taunts and mitigated their pain, then invited them to lunch: "Come," he said, "eat, my children, and the Lord will show His mercies to you." Having thus exhorted the workers, and having been left alone on the threshing floor, he bent his knee to the east, and with his lips murmuring prayers amidst tears, he besought God to become propitious and to transfer the rain that was threatening with the destruction and ruin of the crops. What then? Did He who is quick to assist, and who does the will of those who fear Him, perhaps disregard His own servant or delay in hearing him? By no means; rather, He now renewed an ancient miracle: for the rain, as if obeying a command, widely inundated the surrounding areas,
but did not dare to approach even a little bit to the threshing floor of the righteous one. All who saw this turned from their great despondency to gladness, sent up prayers of thanksgiving to God, and glorified His saint B.
17. He who was truly humble, and a most exact observer of the commandments of Christ, showed himself yet humbler, and applied himself to the accustomed service of God, having fasting as a companion of his life, so that he used only necessary food. He degraded himself with lowliness of mind, such that no one could have recognized him as the superior of the monastery. He wore himself out with vigils, so as to compete almost with the bodiless [angels]. Along with these things, he laboured with his own hands, working ceaselessly. For this wonderful man wrote also in a beautiful hand, as if he were a scribe, and so faultlessly as to give no occasion for reproach even to those who excel in this art. With one more thing mentioned, I will conclude my narrative regarding his passing and the miracles performed during that time.
18. When, therefore, the monastery, through God’s cooperation, had grown in size, there was need for animals for the service of the monks and for other necessities; among these were horses. One of these, once left entirely alone—for the saint was not dwelling in the monastery at that time—became an easy prey for thieves. This horse followed the thieves for some time, God having so ordained it that both they themselves might be corrected and His saint, even in his absence, might be glorified C. The thieves, I say, went off joyfully with the horse following them. But let us attend to the narrative, for it is not without charm, but possesses much pleasantness along with the miracle. For when they thought they had achieved the fruit of their theft and had their profit in their bags, and were running full of hope, suddenly the horse stood still like a rock, and was altogether immobile. While they were beating it with sticks, kicking it, and taking hold of the halter and pulling it vigorously, it stood as if inanimate, in no way obeying them, nor agreeing to proceed any further. The thieves, therefore, despairing of moving forward on the path by which they had come, turned the horse around to test it. And as it sensed that it was being made to move in reverse (O miracle!), it walked most swiftly, and full of eagerness D trod the path by which it had come. Seeing this, they were for a moment struck with fear and astonishment; but shortly, collecting their wits and considering the prodigy, they brought the horse back and arrived at the monastery, confessing the matter and swearing never again to attempt such things, but to provide the necessities of life by the labour of their hands. And these men acted thus; but in all things God was glorified, He who in turn glorifies those who glorify Him more brilliantly.
A 19. Now since it was necessary that he, too, having finished his course and guarded the faith, according to the divine Paul, should find an end to his many labours and sweats, and be resolved, and be with Christ, and be presented to the life-giving Trinity, he fell into that illness by which he attained his blessed departure. On the very day, then, on which he was about to depart from this tabernacle, a certain monk named Leontius, a presbyter in rank and one of the first among the monastery’s elders, having finished the morning hymns according to custom and having given himself over to sleep, heard a voice similar to thunder; and the voice declared the following: “A perpetual throne is prepared for Father Bartholomew.” Seized with dread, he leaped up from his cell and hurried out, asking those he encountered whether they too had heard the voice. When they denied having heard anything, he said, “And yet, I believe that voice was heard in Tusculum as well.” Indeed, that voice signified to us the good things prepared for the holy man and the glory which he was soon to possess. B And as the day was already declining, the blessed man migrated to the Lord. And now he is in the heavens, and sees God and is seen; he sees, namely, the God whom he loved, whom he served, and, standing right by Him, he intercedes for us.
20. Furthermore, it is not right to leave unsaid the miracle that took place after his departure, especially since it is equivalent to the voice heard by the monk Leontius, and confirms its truth. Another monk, Frank by name, having fallen into sickness, seemed already to be meeting death; and with his voice failing, he appeared life-less, without respiration, without motion, showing no vital faculty. When C the gathering of the brothers occurred, as is the custom, with some saying he should be buried and others delaying it, the day was already approaching the beginning of the night; yet the one lying there still appeared dead. Therefore, as they set about the funeral washing, while they were pouring water upon him and turning him this way and that, suddenly the dead man was alive; and he who was but a moment before mute was now speaking, and rebuking those washing him, he said, “Why, brothers, do you offer me violence? Why did you wake me from my sweet sleep?” And they said to him, “Seeing you dead the whole day, we intended now to wash you.” D Thereupon the one who had been lying there began to recount: “I, whether in the body or out of the body, saw myself walking alone toward a certain place, with two doves proceeding before me; of which one was white and the other black; they were flying about me, the white one indeed on the right, the black one on the left. So, then, as they went ahead and I followed, we arrived at a certain field, and the field was filled with ineffable light and fragrance; and in this field, while I was observing with my mind, I beheld our Father standing, and around him a multitude of the poor to whom he was distributing bread. But when he had turned his eye and seen me, he said, ‘What are you doing here, Frank? Or who brought you hither?’ I, however, to him, [where]
A recounted how I had arrived. The Father asked again: ‘And how are our brothers faring?’ ‘Well, by the grace of God,’ I said. He replied: ‘Return to the monastery, and tell the brothers to persevere in the tradition which I delivered to them.’ Having said these things, he seemed to proceed to the interior places.
21. I followed him as he went, for I did not wish to be separated from him, and we arrived at a certain city, B the beauty of which no human tongue can describe. When the Father had entered one of the palaces there, I also went in with him, where we beheld a very glorious throne, upon which the Father ascended and sat down. Two others stood by him, whose faces were brighter than the sun. Turning around and seeing me, he said: ‘Have you come here, too, Frank? Return to the monastery, and as I told you, admonish the brothers to persevere in virtue, in the performance of good works, and in constancy; and I trust in my Lady and Queen’—saying which, he lifted his eyes upward—‘that you will never be abandoned, nor shall I be without you, either in the present age or in the future.’ While the Father was speaking thus, I also, fixing my eyes above his head, C beheld a woman sitting upon a fearful throne, whose beauty and the radiance shining from her I cannot describe. Around her were certain bright figures standing in fear and reverence; and I suspected that she was the holy Theotokos. Having seen and heard these things, I left the palace, and with those same doves again leading the way for me, I arrived here. These things the monk, as an eyewitness and earwitness, recounted.
22. But we, having been fully persuaded by both his virtuous and exact life, D and by the miracles which God performed through him, celebrating his memory with an unwavering mind and with burning love, and venerating the coffin of his relics, beseech that we may have him as a mediator and intercessor with our Savior and God; so that, through his intercessions and those of our Lady and Queen, the ever-virgin Theotokos, we may not be excluded from the good things allotted to him, but that we may obtain our lot and portion with all the saints who have pleased our Christ and God; to whom be glory, with His Father who is without beginning, and with the co-beginning, life-originating, life-giving, and good Spirit, now and always, and to the ages of ages. Amen.
The end of the Life of the holy Father.
ENCOMIUM ON OUR HOLY FATHER BARTHOLOMEW
1. A *Admirabilis est Deus in sanctis suis* (Ps. LXVII, 36). It is fitting indeed to make one's beginning of speech from psalmic songs, for it is highly appropriate to the occasion. God is truly wonderful in all his saints; and that we may honor the Trinity in this as well, God is wonderful in all his servants. For the Lord is to be admired not only in prophets, apostles, and martyrs, but now also in the holy men and ascetics. And not only in that time, while they were living the angelic life in the flesh, but also now, through the yearly cycle—by which, like the rising of the stars, the memory of them returns—God himself is glorified in them, and their struggles and labors are celebrated, and the assembly of the faithful, spurred on by the praises of these men, is led to the same zeal; for the memory of the righteous, it is said, is crowned with praises.
2. B You, therefore, O divinely gathered assembly, as many of you as have become fathers of spiritual children, and as many as have been deemed worthy to be fathers of fathers, and as many as have obtained the lot of children, come, let us exult with spiritual joy. For today we celebrate the memory not simply of a father, but of a father of fathers, of a shepherd of shepherds, and of a guide of guides. To observe the memory of a father, and especially of such a one, is an entirely great duty—a father, I say, who did not beget us from blood nor from the will of the flesh, but who has regenerated us from God through the Spirit. But who shall give me [the ability] to be opened—as if with prophetic tongs—and to have my lips purified with the coal? For what human tongue will be able to set forth the virtues of that man as they deserve?
3. C I know, indeed, that I am provoking a great danger, little as I am when measured against that great man, whom the title of "Father" has made illustrious and known to all—to kings, to magistrates, and to the common multitude—or rather, who deservedly and by right acquired the title of "Father" through his divine deeds and gained a surname most appropriate to his achievements. I know, I say; I know and am persuaded that, in attempting to praise his virtues, I shall run, as it were, like a man on foot beside a Lydian chariot, D [attempting to celebrate] those solemn...
and sensible things which I cannot even rightly understand, much less express with my tongue? But since your holiness, the common father of fathers and our own, has stirred me to these words, and that, too, while I am suffering in a somewhat miserable and wretched state of body, I feel as if I were inspired by the spirit you breathe into me. And just as the north wind moves and stirs the sea, so that it foams and is agitated—though when the squall suddenly ceases, it returns to calm (since all things raised by another require a constant impulse)—therefore, you, O Father and master, who are my life and breath after God, and who have more than once willed me to be a partaker of your divine spirit, pour it out and breathe it upon me continuously, so that the vigor of my soul may become more robust for entering the struggle. For a struggle and a great arena await me. But you, B and those with you who, following you, know his virtues most accurately, act as president and judge of my discourse. I must therefore run a double course: the first, running along with the great Father; and the second, under your guidance—you who are his chosen and firstborn son, in whom he was also well pleased, our father and teacher—completing the stadium of my discourse.
4. What, then, shall we do, brethren, cast down somewhere by the incomparable greatness of this man? Shall we open the fountain of our discourse? But whatever we might be able to say will appear inferior to him, and we shall be thought in some way to be disparaging his virtues. For in those matters we cannot attain, we offer insult. But shall we be silent? Where then is the promise of obedience? How shall we show evidence of a ready will? Do you see how a double danger presses upon us from both sides? C Consider how both speech and silence lead to my accusation. Yet, balanced thus as if upon a scale, and tossed hither and thither, I shall, putting my trust in your most serene spirit, as has been said, most revered Father, confidently unfurl the sail of my discourse. But do you breathe upon me the sweetest zephyr of the spirit that is in you—you who, for God's sake, are recognized by us as a god. And even if you say, "I am not God," I shall boldly contradict you, that for this very reason you are all the more a god; for the limit of your humility portrays your deification, the most accurate image of the Godhead. But how is he not a god who is adorned with those divine virtues by which a divine man is represented, and then, also, is turned toward earthly things, like some intellectual power, taking care D of us mortals?
5. It is sufficient, therefore, listeners, for the subject of praises for that blessed and celebrated Father, that our Father and this your excellent assembly—this intellectual paradise, in the midst of which he stands like a tree with high branches, providing us with life-giving fruits through his mouth—is this very shepherd of ours, and around him you are like certain divine plants and strong shoots, sprouting from his sweet root
A If we too who are newly planted are gathered in with you, I would rejoice greatly; but the bitter-sweet wood was driven far away. This divine paradise he planted with his own labors in unity with God. For if all of you have sprung from him who is present with us now, and he was the first to plant, while this one, receiving the stream from him, watered it—even this, again, is an increase of glory for him. God, moreover, made it grow according to merit, and that through our Father; for he, having received the ascetic life from that great man as a very rich talent, did not hide or bury it in the ground, but having deposited it with you, the honest money-changers, he increased it many times over, with God as his helper. And this, too, surely adds to his praises: that he became a father to such a son.
6. If one must also characterize him in other respects by particular virtues: who, then, did not spare his own body in the struggles and labors undergone for God? Who kept his eye sleepless like a good shepherd for the safety of his own flock? For knowing that the life of this troublesome age is truly like a magician, and because it is entirely destitute of its own beauty with which it might seduce our nature, it attempts to lure to itself by various enticements and, as it were, incantations, and furthermore by fictitious delights and specious pretexts, he B revealed its shame as entirely manifest, removed its false pleasure, and, by refuting its theatrical artifice, made its falsehood apparent. Who excelled him in subtlety of mind, who in vigor of intellect, always keeping his spirit lively and occupied with things pertaining to God and divine matters? Who was so sweet in speaking, quick to respond, and cheerful in conversation? Who was so apt at unravelling the difficulties of Scripture and discerning the true meaning? Who, like him, while living with the best, did not neglect the salvation of the weaker disciples? But by the ingenuity in which he excelled, situated in the midst of divine and human affairs, he neither neglected the lower things entirely C nor failed to temper them best with those others. Who has appeared so experienced a physician of souls, knowing how always to mix the medicine to the level of the ailment? For at one time he would cure the sick with certain baths and poultices, at another time with incisions and cauterizations; and sometimes he used milder medicines, at other times more active and piercing ones. And if he perhaps recognized the disease of the malady to be festering and wholly malignant, he would not touch it superficially; nor would he be seen to quiver or tremble as he approached, but he plunged his steel D even into the deepest recesses of the soul, to the very marrow and harmony of the spirit.
7. Who soothed the souls of his hearers with such divine and honey-flowing spells? Who so brought down the swollen, raised up the fallen, and turned them from the precipices to the level ground? Who was like him, standing firm in every state of affairs, and was neither carried away by rapid impulse
to be accessible to all? But who was so sublime in mind, who indeed could be compared with the harmony and beauty of his manner of speaking? His mouth was honeyed, a charm for the hearts of all; he was known to everyone as a muse of concepts, sweet as nectar, a nature unchangeable. For he was the same everywhere, never changing, never transfigured; in teaching, he articulated clear truths; in speaking, he perfectly elucidated the profound. But in his letters, oh, the sweetness! For he possessed such wealth in his tongue—in his expressions, and in his nature regarding matters of thought—that none of our generation could be found like him. God himself is my witness, that I never departed from his company without being struck with admiration and amazement at his soul and intellect. And he possessed such mortal sweetness that one could never take his fill of hearing him, to the point of forgetting gentle sleep, drink, and food—never even remembering them—and so that even one of the twenty-four hours of the day and night seemed to me a heavenly period. B
8. Still, the pattern of his character remains fixed in my soul, and the traces of his discourses are stamped upon it; the echo of that harmony still rings in my ears, and I truly considered myself blessed at that time as I was a listener to things issuing from a sober mouth, through which God speaks and the spirit of wisdom and understanding is granted; for he lacked nothing of a seraphic eye, seeing things most sharply and ordering his vision in a circle. But so that you too may know the ultimate truth of what is said, and not disbelieve these things on account of their excess, I will set forth one of the memories of him for you, his lovers of such things. C And furthermore, by adding some small achievements of his to these, I shall bring the little boat of my speech into the harbor of silence, partly to dispel the fatigue in the ears caused by the satiety of hearing, and partly because of the lingering weakness of the body (for it is in the nature of things for the intelligent part of the soul to suffer along with the body, due to that strange and ineffable union).
9. Once, when I was alone with the blessed man and was asking for an explanation of certain Scriptural questions, he looked at me with a gentle eye and smiled slightly, as he was wont to do in delightful matters: "You seem to be, my child," he said, "straightforwardly a tax-collector, or rather, a word-collector. But if I push aside your question for a short time, consider, I pray you, as a prudent man, whether I love what I seem to refuse, and desire what I push aside, and thus you will not blame the delay. For if the fountains of waters had souls, they would indeed rejoice in being drawn from, yet they would say that they felt burdened by being exhausted. D I, therefore, also willingly accept your little vessel; for I do not fear that the fountain of words will fail me, since indeed my own [fountain of speech] resembles the...
breasts of women (and do not be offended by this comparison; for there is nothing shameful that nature produces). How, then, do those women pour forth that milk which gushes from within? The milk is not in the flesh, nor is it in such quantity, but the lips of the suckling infants, by sucking the breast and pressing the nipple, draw out the humors hiding in the depths and cause them to flow; and it is quite evident from the fact that as soon as the infant stops sucking, the breast dries up and the milk no longer flows. In the same way, wells behave in which water is brought forth by digging; it does not, as some suppose, appear gathered in certain hollows, but the waters, pressed by the digging, gush forth abundantly. B Thus, I too supply rational fountains to those who dig out my words, and when they dig me, I gush forth.
10. Having heard these things, I immediately became speechless, and I pondered within myself, and as it were, spoke with my own reason: "Whence, then, has this man, having practiced moral and political philosophy to the extreme, and already having perfected himself in theology, not remained a stranger to the science of natural phenomena?" And indeed, I compared his soul to a pearl, very white and shining, and perfectly rounded, and being sent upward toward God. C For he restrained himself with the entanglements of existing things as if with certain bands, so that, like a kernel released by the pressure of fingers and sent on high, and launched in the manner of an arrow by a skilled archer, he might be aimed toward the goal above.
11. But you, O Father of fathers, and guide and teacher of the monastic life (for you were unknown among us, and as some vessel of no account), you who have departed from here and, lifted by ascetic wings, now dwell with God, you no longer care for earthly things; indeed, the law, I suppose, forbids you, having been received into heaven, from returning to this land of ours. But we, as children and disciples, beseech you, presenting your firstborn son and zealot and our Father as a mediator to you, and we ask that, since the divine sweetness, which you desired from your youth, has received you and willed that you be soaked in supreme pleasure in the divine and immutable dwellings, D do not forget to intercede with the Lord on our behalf, and to render Him propitious to us who, though still on earth, belong to you. But you, our Father, blame yourself if the extent of our discourse causes you nausea: for you yourself commanded us to mix this deep cup for you.
12. We, indeed, O Fathers and brothers, let us strive to imitate that venerable and ever-memorable Father; for we have as a guide for this imitation this preceptor and teacher of ours, who has formed himself after his life and mind as no one else among those present has done, and displays his exact likeness and most sincere character. We have,
if we so wish, action accompanied by reason and contemplation; or indeed the practical discourse of our Father, guiding and enlightening us, so that we are directed by him as by two most brilliant pillars, or, to speak more truly, by a twofold discipline: that of discourse and that of action. For he knows securely whence he might acquire blessedness. Let us therefore never be reckoned as bastards, A nor miserably fall away from our paternal inheritance! For just as we learn from the ancient historians that there is a certain Celtic river that separates the spurious from the genuine, so too do we learn from our own tradition that there is another, a river of fire, in which the true children are separated from the alien.
13. Let us, therefore, fear this separation; for even if we have been unfaithful out of sloth to those first promises which we made to God, let us not also be unfaithful to these final ones, after which there is no longer room for other promises. Let us grieve for a little while, that we may be sweetened forever. Let us be straitened by a fleeting straitness, that through it we may gain the indissoluble spaciousness; that we may be dilated through constriction; that we may find rest through toil. Thus, too, Lazarus found rest through toil; thus the rich man found punishment through rest. Let us consider, brothers, the toil of the body as fleeting, and the affliction of the soul as endless; temporary delight and rest, and joy as eternal and unremovable. Who, indeed, if he is at all in his right mind, would exchange long-lasting pain for a small pleasure? Or who would reject the greatest joy because of a small pain? C Insufferable is the hell of fire which the fiery darts of the evil one bring upon us. Let us fear, beloved, lest he who is wont to walk in these things walk in our breast and belly, and strive to teach us the same manner of living, through which the fire is kindled for us, and that worm which never sleeps is born. God did not create a burning fire; let us not, therefore, rashly kindle it for ourselves, and if we have kindled it, let us endeavor to extinguish it through an upright life. It is kindled by pleasures and excessive laughter and dissipation; it is extinguished by sorrows, afflictions, and hot tears. That worm never sleeps; but let us strive to lull it to sleep by the vigils which we undertake for God. The gnashing of teeth is ceaseless, but let us hasten to put an end to it with another gnashing—that of repentance. Let us cease the eternal lamentation with a temporary lament. A rot creeps through the depths; but let us show our wounds to the Physician.
14. Do we not hear David saying that the observation of our sins by God is D insufferable to men? Let us therefore shudder at this dread observation of the Master. For the fire will test all our works, whatever they be: let us not, therefore, [build...]